


When the Seasons Change

by Papallion



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Overwatch Fall Exchange 2020, bookshop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27208795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papallion/pseuds/Papallion
Summary: Baptiste is having another rough spot with Mauga, and discovers friendship in the owner of a bookstore, Siebren de Kuiper.Meanwhile, the owner of Stardust Books, Siebren de Kuiper, has been crushing on one of his patrons for a while.Will either of them admit it?
Relationships: Jean-Baptiste Augustin/Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11
Collections: Overwatch Fall Exchange 2020





	When the Seasons Change

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FuelToFire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuelToFire/gifts).



Baptiste glanced in the window to the bookstore and paused. He was getting off his hospital shift rather late, which was early for Stardust Books, and he could see the store getting ready for the day. 

To the left of the door was The Space Bar coffee shop, and he could see Lena prepping the coffee and Hammond stocking the baked goods Panadería Reyes y Familia had just dropped off. Baptiste knew Iggy would be in the basement setting up the music store. Harold Junior was just leaving, heading to his teaching job. Baptiste tilted his head and could finally see Siebren. 

Siebren had taken the glass tops and table clothes off of the tables and was covering them with black spider web fabric. He looked up as he snapped a cloth open, and his face brightened as he spotted Baptiste in the window. He paused what he was doing and he waved him to the door. “My, you’re here early,” Siebren said as he unlocked the doors. “And on a Monday, too! Come in, Baptiste, it’s going to rain soon!”

Baptiste eagerly stepped inside and took a deep breath. He was a little disappointed the place didn’t smell like it usually did. It felt strange to be in Stardust Books without the soft jazz, the warmth, and the scent of coffee and baked goods. The ancient office building had been converted into the bookstore several years ago, and Baptiste had been one of its regular patrons.

As Siebren led him to the chairs and helped him with his jacket, Baptiste realized it wasn’t just the books he enjoyed. Once Batpiste’s things were set down Siebren returned to decorating.

“You look tired, did you have a long night?” Siebren asked as he covered another table with a black cloth.

Baptiste took the other side and helped him smooth it down. “Yeah, had to take over Lúcio’s shift. He had an exam and then got called in to help Dr. Amari, so I stepped in. Then the ER got flooded with college students and Dr. Ziegler called for help, so I was in the ER all night. Lu finally relieved me. We had a bunch of college students injure themselves at a party.”

“You’ve had a busy night! That means Lúcio will be late, I suppose.” 

Lúcio took the afternoon shift at the music store in the basement.

Siebren reached into a massive bag of novelty glitter and started sprinkling leaves, bats, moons, acorns, and pumpkins on the black-draped tables. He loved to decorate his store with the seasons and lifted one of the glass table covers to replace it. 

Baptiste quickly moved to help him with it. “Where’s Junior? He usually gets these for you!” Baptiste scolded as they lowered the table top. They were exceptionally heavy, but Harold Junior was built like a tank and could easily handle the thick glass.

“Oh, I can get this,” Siebren insisted. He limped to the next table and continued to sprinkle. He never bothered with his cane for short walks. “He got called to work early.” 

Baptiste helped him with the glass table top. After a long and hectic night dealing with drunken idiots it felt good to decorate. He helped put the glitter and glass tops back on the tables, hung some pumpkins and a few bats, and stenciled stars and moons on a few windows. The entire time Siebren told him about the newest books he had ordered. 

“The first one is a modern feminist retelling of the myth of Medusa, called ‘The Stone Eyed Girl.’ It’s beautifully written, and the illustrations have period-accurate clothing! The characters are good, solid characters. Poor Medusa, she goes through so much, she’s so scared! Her new sisters the Gorgons take good care of her.”

“I remember the myth,” Baptiste said as he swapped the throw pillows on Siebren’s recliner. He considered a witch, but picked the pirate instead. It felt good to change things from the summer decorations to the autumn ones.

As they replaced the bright flowers on the fireplace with sunflowers and dahlias, Siebren paused at the memorial. It was a small shadow box with pictures, a pair of glasses, a research paper, and a small gorilla figure.

Siebren’s late husband Harold Winston Senior had been killed in a lab fire almost ten years ago. The same fire had seriously scarred Moira’s right hand and falling debris had hit Siebren, breaking his hip and giving him his limp.

“Gabriel helped me make this after Harold passed,” Siebren said with a soft smile. “He helped me remember the good times we had, and that it’s OK to let go.” Siebren took a moment before turning to Baptiste. “Autumn is a wonderful time of change, a season to continue the cycle of life.” 

“You miss him?” Baptiste asked as he hung colorful striped socks with their names on them. He had never felt comfortable asking about Harold Senior, but recently he and Siebren had become quite close. Close enough that Baptiste’s name was embroidered on the Halloween stocking he was about to hang from the pumpkin themed stocking hook.

“Oh, yes. He would have liked you, you know. He had good taste in men.” Siebren arranged a sunflower arrangement. “But, I’ve learned to move on.” He smiled at Baptiste.

“That’s a lesson I should learn,” Baptiste said quietly.

Siebren took the hint and moved on. He picked up a black cat pillow and held it out to one of the store cats. “Hoi, Boris. Here, look, this is you!” 

Baptiste laughed as Siebren tried to show Boris the pillow, but the massive black cat didn’t care. There wasn’t much going on his head, but that didn’t stop Siebren from talking to him as if he understood. 

Antoine, Boris’ equally large brother, wasn’t much smarter. He also didn’t care about the decorations.

After putting the unused decorations away, they both sat down in the comfortable chairs near the fireplace, and Boris flopped on Baptistes’ lap. 

Siebren rested his cane in the clasp Harold Junior fixed to the side table. “How have you been, Baptiste?” Siebren asked, and Lena came over with some hot tea. “Ah, bedankt!”

“And one for Baptiste!” Lena said and handed him a cup. Both cups had large stroopwafels over them. The heat of the tea would make the syrup inside soft and runny, and Baptiste eagerly looked forward to the snack. 

“Thanks! What do I owe you?” Baptiste asked.

Siebren scoffed and waved his hand away. “You helped me with the decorating, the least I can do is feed you.” Siebren held a tray of cookies out.

Baptiste accepted a small chocolate cookie. “So, tell me more about this Medusa book.”

Baptiste loved to listen to Siebren when he started talking about a topic he was interested in. His eyes lit up, his hands kept moving, and he was amazingly expressive. He eagerly listened, Boris on his lap, fireplace crackling, and tea warming him, and he wasn’t aware he had fallen asleep until he woke up. Something was pressing on his kidney.

Stardust Books felt like Stardust Books again. The Space Bar smelled wonderful. Gibraltar Underground was playing some weird indie metal folk band. People were chatting. He could hear the old stairs creak as someone walked up them. He stretched a little, dislodged a cat, and looked around.

The little sitting area was mostly full. Siebren was discussing something with Gabriel, and Gabriel’s husband Jack was looking at a motorcycle magazine. Amélie was holding Antoine, and making comments on Gabriel’s commentary while sitting on the arm of his chair.

“Do you mind?” he asked after a particularly acidic observation.

“Not at all,” she answered and took a long drink of coffee. “Ah, back with the living?” she asked once she saw Baptiste was awake.

“Oh, man, I’m sorry!” Baptiste said and rubbed his eyes. “Hey, Boris.” He adjusted the cat on his lap. “I did not mean to sleep,” he said and checked his watch, “for four hours.”

“Well, you just got off a long shift, you needed the rest!” Siebren said calmly. “I hope we didn’t wake you.”

“No, Boris found my kidney.” 

Upon hearing his name, Boris gave off a scratchy ‘mraw’. 

“I’m certain it was an accident!” Siebren grinned.

“Wasn’t. He’s a cat,” Jack grunted.

Amélie stood and dropped Antoine into Gabriel’s lap. “I need to return to the shop. Thank you for the coffee, Siebren. Baptiste, do you need a ride home? It’s on the way.” She tilted her head at him. “We do have something to talk about.”

Baptiste wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. “I appreciate it, but I haven’t had breakfast yet. Can we meet later?”

Amélie hummed in an unsatisfactory agreement. “Later, then.”

“Why don’t we get some lunch?” Baptiste asked, eyeing Siebren. “We’ll hit The Knight’s Hearth. Rein should have some lunch ready by now.”

“Well, the rain has stopped. No wonder you slept so well! I always sleep so much better in the rain,” Siebren noted and let Jack help him stand. He was perfectly capable of getting around on his own, but everyone still fussed over him. He had simply learned to thank people and continue working.

“Emily, we’re stepping out for lunch. I’ll get something for everyone on my way back. Oh, I put your things in the office, Baptiste. Emily, please?”

“Got it, boss!” Emily called from the register. “Here, I’ve got your jackets.” 

They hauled their jackets on and stepped into the brisk weather. The sun had attempted to come out and the breeze had died down so it wasn’t too cold out. Baptiste got Siebren to start talking about the sequel to the Medusa story. 

“It’s called Ganymede Goes North, and it blends Greek and Norse mythology!” Siebren said brightly. “Ganymede was a Trojan boy of great beauty, and Zeus sent his eagle Aquilus to bring him to Olympus so Ganymede could pour his wine.”

“Oh, that Greek winery, Ganymede!” Baptiste said suddenly. “I always thought it was weird it was named after a moon.” He was delighted when Siebren suddenly switched to talking about space, one of his true passions.

In the two blocks it took to reach Reinhardt’s pub Baptiste learned more about Jupiter’s moon Ganymede then he thought possible. Right as Siebren was about to breach the topic of the other Galilean moons he paused, face red. 

“I do apologize,” he stammered out quickly, hand on the door to the pub. “I know I go on.”

“No, it’s great!” Baptiste assured him. “I love you when you go on.” Baptiste blushed a little. “Love watching you. Listening to you. You’re a lot smarter than I am and I always learn so much.”

“Oh, that’s not true,” Siebren started to argue, and Brigitte opened the door from the inside. “Oh, hallo, Brigitte!”

“What’s wrong?” Baptiste asked.

Brigitte gestured to the window, face worried. “Just a heads up,” she said quietly. “Rein’s cutting him off soon.”

Both men could see a massive man at the bar, the white streak in his wild hair shining under the warm lights. It looked like he was bragging about something, or telling a story. His arms were waving around, sloshing beer, and Baptiste could hear his loud laughter. 

“Mr. Ogundimu’s got some new items on the menu,” Brigitte said. “He’s looking for some taste testers.”

“Thanks, Bree,” Baptiste said quietly. Did everyone know about how messy his relationship with Mauga had been recently?

“Say hello for us, we’ll see him on Thursday,” Siebren added. The two quickly made their way down the street to Mother Africa. “Ah, this place always smells so delicious!” 

Baptiste took a long, deep breath. “Yeah, Akande isn’t afraid of spices!” he grinned and held the door open. “Remember when we first ate here? I was afraid of killing an old white man,” Baptiste laughed. “You really can hold your spice!”

“Well, I grew up eating East Indies foods,” Siebren said with a shrug. “Hello, Akande!”

“Come inside, you’re letting the cold in!” Akande Ogundimu scolded from the register at the counter. “Let me ring them out, and I’ll get you some tea.” 

Most of the tables were filled, and Baptiste could hear conversations in at least three African languages. They were lucky to find a seat so close to lunch time!

“So,” Baptiste said as he held Siebren’s cane for him while Siebren took his jacket off, “Brigitte said you were looking for test subjects?”

Akande washed his hands and picked up a kettle. “That I am! I have finally perfected my grandmother’s asun recipe! Smoked goat meat, ata rodo, roasted onions, it’s perfect for a cold day like today!” Akande proclaimed. “Sit down, I’ll get you some. Abiodun, two bowls of asun!” he called to his cousin on the back.

“What’s ata rodo?” Baptiste asked as he draped his jacket on the back of the chair. He held Siebren’s seat for him as he sat down.

“Scotch bonnet pepper,” Akande said as if that explained everything. “Sieb, you’re going to love it.”

“I look forward to it!” he grinned and accepted his tea. He liked green tea better, but Akande’s spiced black tea was always welcome. He took a long sip and smiled.

Baptiste found himself staring for a moment.

“What?” Siebren asked as Akande easily slid their plates into place.

“Nothing, just, you know, thinking how you can eat the same spicy stuff Gabriel can,” Baptiste lied quickly. He wasn’t about to comment to his best friend just how enchanting he was when he smiled, or how safe he made him feel, or how bright his eyes were when he was in a good mood. “You were telling my about Io, next?”

Siebren’s face almost glowed as he began.

  
  
  
  


The walk back was pleasant until the rain started a block from the bookstore. The duo hauled their jackets over their heads and ran, Siebren’s limp not hindering him as much as one would suspect. He’d had the wound for several years and was good with his cane, and he was doing better than Baptiste was with the large box of food.

Right as they stepped into the bookstore a massive peel of thunder rang out, and they both started laughing.

“Oh, that was close!” Siebren grinned as he tapped his cane on the floor. “I need to go upstairs and get changed!” He tugged on his slacks and flicked some water from them.

“Yeah, I should get home and change.” Baptiste gave his jacket a shake.

“Hammond?” Siebren asked as he walked to the counter. “Can you give Baptiste a ride home? You know he’s not far, and we got rather damp.”

“Yeah, you get changed, I’ll drive him home when you get downstairs.” Hammond continued to flip through his bowling magazine. “Hm, it’s almost two, I’m gonna head straight to First Strike after that. We got a few lanes reserved.”

“Totally fair. Ladies, I brought some food from Akande’s place. Let Iggy know?” Siebren asked. He left the food on the counter, entered the door code to the back rooms and paused to look behind him. “I’ll be right back!”

Siebren went upstairs, hauled his sweater off, and sighed. “Let me loan you something of mine, Baptiste,” he said to himself. “I’ll put your clothes in the dryer. Ah, I’m an old fool.” He quickly changed into dry clothes and came back downstairs. He tried not to think how cozy Baptiste would look in one of his sweaters.

When he returned to the store Hammond was ringing an order for Baptiste.

“I got those myth retellings you were excited about!” he grinned and held his bag up. He always carried a Stardust Books reusable bag with him. “I pre-ordered the third one, too.”

“OK, Uncle Bren. I’ll be back after bowling to help lock up!” Hammond said and hauled his jacket on, a black bowling jacket with “Wrecking Ball” emblazoned on the back. He hauled on his mouse eared hat, the trademark he wore while bowling competitively. His name was embroidered on the front and the inside of the left ear had a painting of the moon.

Baptiste wanted to say a more formal goodbye to Siebren, but could only squawk out a ‘thanks for lunch’ before following Hammond outside.

They made a dash to Hammond’s car between rolls of thunder, and sat down with a sigh. “Man, I hate it when it’s cold AND humid,” Hammond muttered. “Gotta run the air so I can see!”

“Thanks for the ride,” Baptiste said. “I’d hate to wait for the bus in this weather!”

“Well, Uncle likes you.” He adjusted his mirrors. “A lot.”

“I know,” Baptiste said quietly.

“Kinda mad at you,” Hammond admitted.

“Because Siebren is right there and I’m with Mauga?” Baptiste asked, and Hammond grunted in an affirmative tone. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“You could start by-” a voice from the backseat started. “Stop screaming, it’s only me!” Olivia snapped.

“You freaking ninja! When did you get here?” Hammond snapped. As usual he pronounced ninja with a soft Spanish ‘H.’

“Been here all along. Baps, look, just take Amélie up on her offer.” Olivia ignored Hammond’s sputtering and demands for explanations. “You know she wants to help.”

“I can’t just take her money!” Baptiste exclaimed.

“Wait, Ames wants to give you money?” Hammond asked and pulled onto the street.

“She, look, the only reason I’m still with Mauga is because of the apartment. The bills. We've been fighting, I’ve been sleeping in the office.” Baptiste felt his face redden. “The landlord’s trying to boot us, anyways. He’s tired of fixing drywall. He can’t PROVE it’s Mauga, but, Mauga does like to throw his weight around.” He thought of the punched holes in the hall Mauga made when he didn’t get his way.

“What went on between you two, anyways?” Hammond asked. He changed lanes and passed a truck.

The car was silent except for Olivia sucking on her boba.

“We were in a gang together when we were younger. We dropped out, and I stayed out. He didn’t.” Baptiste sighed and rubbed his chin. “But we’re stuck with the lease, and his car payment, and the furniture payments.”

“Let’s look at this logically.” Hammond tapped on his steering wheel. “You just need money to get out. Ames has more money than anyone in the city except Ogundimu and Ashe. Hell, Ames set Gabe up with the bakery. Mako with the garage. Or was that Ashe? But she set up Jack with his repair place.”

“Papá and Uncle Jack are really grateful for that,” Olivia added. “She’s never once demanded to be repaid. But papá DOES have to make these croissants she likes and hand them over whenever she wants. And Uncle Jack has to change her oil.”

“I know, but she’s my friend,” Baptiste said. “I can’t just take her money.”

“Then make a deal,” Hammond offered. “You know she throws money at charities all the time. Do some doctors without borders for her.”

“You could do a charity date auction,” Olivia offered. “You just need to go to dinner, do some dancing, raise money for her inner city kids charity. She’s patroning instruments, now.” She took another noisy slurp of tea.

“Do you gotta do that RIGHT in my ear?” Hammond snapped.

“Yes.”

“You’re annoying. How’d you get in my car, anyways?” Hammond demanded.

“You have a smart car. I’m an IT expert.”

“You’re terrifying!” Baptiste admitted. “Makes me glad my apartment has a deadbolt.”

“Hey, my apartment has a deadbolt. No Ring, no Echo, no Alexa. None of this ‘smart’ garbage.” She took another noisy slurp and Hammond waved his hand in her general direction. “First thing I do with all my electronics is jailbreak them and turn off almost everything. Also, Hammy, tell your uncle he’s not allowed to have admin access to his tablet any more. Man had six viruses.” She pulled the tablet from her bag and waved it a bit.

“I keep TELLING him to quit downloading games! He’s got cards on his cell phone and his Steam account, he doesn’t need to keep downloading crap!” Hammond groaned. “Thanks for fixing that. Could you put that in my bag, Baptiste?”

Right as Baptiste tucked the tablet into the tablet compartment, they pulled up to a rather pleasant brownstone apartment building. “Here you go, buddy.” Hammond unlocked the doors, and Baptiste got out. “Why are you LIKE this?” Hammond demanded as Olivia climbed between the seats.

“What, it’s raining. Go home, Baps!” she ordered, and pulled her seat belt on. “Hey, where’s that little egg adjusting thing for your seat belts? I’m a foot shorter and twice as cute than most of your other friends, none of which are as cute as I am.”

Hammond sighed and shook his head. “Glove box.”

Baptiste unlocked the lobby with his key and made his way upstairs.

Once inside his apartment he sighed as he looked around.

Dishes were scattered everywhere, the sink was left to drizzle, the stove top was a mess, and the trash was overflowing. Mauga’s annoying music was blaring from the expensive stereo in the bedroom, the speakers already blown from abuse. The heat was off again and the apartment was cold.

Baptiste added his new books to the growing pile in the office. He had a nice, large bookcase, and in the past four months he had filled it with books he bought just because Siebren talked about them. Sometimes he would look at the covers and remember just how vivid Siebren was, how enthusiastically he praised new writers and adored familiar words. The new books had to go on the desk for now. 

Baptiste turned off the stereo, changed into dry clothes and started to clean, but as he pulled the trash out he stopped. He desperately missed the warm, dry bookstore and the scent of tea and baked goods. 

Siebren would never leave the apartment like this.

Siebren wanted to buy lunch because it was his turn.

Siebren respected him.

Baptiste tied off the trash, washed his hands, and sat on the sofa. After a moment he pulled out his phone and looked at it for a while, then texted Amélie. 

  
  
  


It was still raining, but Baptiste had his umbrella now. He entered Panadería Reyes y Familia and took a long appreciative breath. It was warm, cozy, and smelled of fresh bread and warm soup. He could hear the chatter of other patrons, the Mexican pop music on the radio, and the sounds of the rain on the window.

“Hey, you!” Gabriel said from the counter. “What brings you out in this dismal weather?”

“I needed to get out for a while.” Baptiste slid his umbrella into the umbrella holder so it could drip dry. “And Akande’s soup was so good I needed more soup.”

“He’s very good, isn’t he?” Ashe asked from the counter. She was working on some corn chowder. “Love the man to pieces, but Gabi here makes the food I grew up with.”

“Only because you always mooched at our place,” Gabriel muttered without malice. “C’mon, sit down, I’ve got some oxtail, just the way you like it.”

“Perfect. Hey, is Jack in?” Baptiste asked and sat at the counter.

“What?” Jack rasped from the kitchen.

“You got a lead on any cars?” Baptiste eagerly accepted the oxtail soup.

“Thought you couldn’t afford it right now?” Jack asked and peered around the door frame.

“Well, Amélie’s putting me up with an apartment, and I’m not going to make payments on Mauga’s truck any more.” Baptiste took a large spoonful.

“Yeah, I got a few that need a bit of work.” Jack fixed up cars to resell when he wasn’t helping at the bakery. “Jesse and I just need a few hours to finish a Chu Firebird, waiting on Mako to finish forging a few braces. Got a Metzen on the lot, too, but it’s a Menethil, the head gasket came off.” He shrugged and returned to slicing steak. “Gimme a few days, you’ll have a few to pick from. Sell it to you cheap.”

“You coulda asked me,” Ashe said in an insulted voice. “I can get you a nice car. Something new.”

“I don’t need something shiny and new,” Baptiste said and stirred his soup. “I want something old and reliable. I’m going to do a charity date for Amélie to thank her.”

“I should buy that date,” Ashe said, her voice sly as she plotted something. “I owe someone a birthday present.” She held out a piece of spicy cornbread from her plate; she had ordered at least eight pieces.

Baptiste grinned and accepted it. It felt good to move on and start living his life again.

  
  
  
  


Wednesday was much brighter, despite being much colder. 

Baptiste entered Stardust books at his usual time, face bright and calm.

“Ah, there you are!” Siebren grinned. “Come in, sit down!” He gestured to the sitting area, full of friends.

Akande and Ashe were sitting on the sofa near Siebren. Akande expertly pulled Ashe into his lap to make room, and Ashe patted the seat she was once in. “Come on, sit,” she urged. “I like this seat better, anyways.”

As Baptiste sat down Ashe turned sideways, leaning against Akande’s arm and slinging her legs across Baptiste’s lap.

“How did it go?” Gabriel asked and held out the cookie tray.

“Well,” Baptiste said as he took a sugar cookie, “it went, at least.” He rested his elbows on Ashs’ calves. “Thanks for helping me move my stuff, everyone.”

Last night, while Mauga was at work, Baptiste, Jesse, Jack, and Harold Junior moved what little possessions Baptiste owned into Jesse’s beat up pickup truck. Most of it seemed to be books and clothes. He thought about what he left behind, the couch and the television, some pans, the microwave, but, most of all, Mauga.

When Mauga got home Baptiste handed him his key, the paperwork showing Baptiste had paid the five hundred dollars to get off of the lease early, said goodbye, and walked out.

“I feel like a coward.”

Baptiste knew it was the easiest way to leave, though. This way Mauga couldn’t hold him hostage with possessions, and he was too stunned to talk Baptiste into staying again.

Siebren reached over and gave Baptiste's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Kandy, I can’t reach, give Baps a gentle pat for me, will you?” Ashe asked.

Akade sighed as he mechanically smacked Baptiste’s shoulder a few times. “There, there, young man, we are here for you.”

“That was a lot of books, are you trying to compete with Uncle Sieb?” Harold Junior asked and shoved his glasses back up his nose.

Baptiste laughed with everyone else. “I’m surprised just how calm I feel about it.”

“Eh, you’ll panic about it later,” Jack groused. "Enjoy the calm while you can."  


Gabriel glared at his husband. “What is wrong with you sometimes?” he hissed over the laughter.

Jesse reached over and smacked his step-father with his hat. “Man had a life changing event, Uncle Jack, show some respect!”

“The man had six totes of books, Jesse, he can handle some salt,” Jack shot back.

While the others started teasing Jack for being callous, Baptiste looked over to Siebren. “Thanks for everything.”

“Oh? You’re welcome?” Siebren said, a little started.

“You taught me that autumn shows us how beautiful it is to let things go." Baptiste leaned over and tugged Siebren’s shoulder down to gently kiss Siebren’s cheek.

“‘bout time,” Lena sighed as she dropped off a few coffees.

As Baptiste’s hand eagerly accepted Siebren’s, he thought about how quickly autumn was becoming his favorite season.


End file.
